


Little Plastic Destiny

by junkshopdisco



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, toys doing stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkshopdisco/pseuds/junkshopdisco
Summary: Someone has been leaving the Merlin and Arthur action figures in compromising positions on set in the hope that it will give Bradley and Colin ideas. It does: revenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Absolutely 100% fictional and simply the product of my twisted imagination. No offence is intended, and similarity to any actions, relationships and events in the real world is entirely coincidental.  
>  **Note:** Written for hermette’s fu-a-thon for a prompt by nenimefish  <3

‘What the hell is – ’  
‘We knew this might happen, mate. Little plastic us-es, it was asking for it. Apparently so was Mer –’

Bradley stops talking when he realises that Colin’s thunderous face _probably_ means he doesn’t think chancing upon little plastic versions of themselves fucking in front of the mirror in make-up is funny. 

‘Doggy style, though?’ Colin says. He tersely snaps little plastic Merlin’s legs straight again and sets him back on the counter. ‘It’s their first time. Where’s the romance?’  
‘You know dogs don’t actually do it doggy style,’ Bradley says.  
‘What?’  
‘Stephen Fry said so, on QI. He wouldn’t lie to me.’  
‘How is that relevant?’  
‘It’s not I just – change of subject?’

Colin mutters something that sounds remarkably like _sometimes I hate my life_ , and flicks little plastic Arthur onto the floor.

The next time it happens, they’re at lunch. Little plastic Merlin is on his knees again, but this time behind the ketchup and at eye-level with Arthur’s groin. He’s obviously doing a good job because little plastic Arthur’s head is tilted up in ecstasy. Bradley tries to get in front of Colin and hide them from his view, but in doing so he accidently stabs him in the leg with his sword. He’s not actually sure which is more responsible for the dark cloud mood that follows Colin around the castle for the rest of the afternoon. He comes to suspect it’s the sword thing, because when Colin comes back from the toilets that evening, he’s chortling and asking whether cottaging is illegal in France because if so, someone’s going to have to break little plastic Merlin and Arthur out of prison.

Over the course of a week, little plastic Merlin and Arthur work their way through the kama sutra. They’re adventurous – don’t mind _al fresco_ – Bradley finds them tangled together in the grass where they’re rehearsing a fight scene, and Colin finds them doing it in a mug of tea like it’s a hot tub. One day they break in the middle of a scene and come back to find them taking Uther’s place:

‘Oh, this is – on the throne and everything. That’s _treason_.’  
‘Mate, just ignore – wait, is that actually physically possible?’

Colin tilts his head to one side and squints at the plastic figures, considering it. 

‘Maybe with a bit of yoga,’ he says, and Bradley laughs.

 

After that Colin’s irritation wanes squarely into amusement, which is fortunate because when they’re finished for the day and go back to the dressing rooms, they find _his_ decked out with candles and rose petals. _You Make My Dreams Come True_ is playing on the stereo and little plastic Merlin and Arthur are in the middle of the floor. They’re gazing longingly into each other’s blank, plastic eyes, Merlin’s legs around Arthur’s waist. There’s even a bottle of wine open at their side, and a box of chocolates, partially-eaten. 

‘You _did_ say you wanted romance,’ Bradley says.  
‘I was just thinking of Merlin’s feelings.’  
‘Well, he looks like he’s having fun.’  
‘How can you tell?’

Bradley mouths nothing by way of answer, and Colin’s eyes fix on the chocolates and narrow. 

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Oh – oh – oh – I know who it is! I know who’s doing it.’  
‘What?’  
‘The orange creams. They’re all gone. Who is the one and only person who likes orange creams?’  
‘McGrath.’  
‘ _McGrath_.’

Colin has _a look_. In fact, he has many looks – but there’s one – one look that Bradley has come to fear and long to see in equal measure. It’s a ponder-wicked-adorable-mind-ticking-impish sort of thing that Bradley can’t copy, despite minutes and minutes when he’s cleaning his teeth devoted to staring into the mirror trying to.

‘What are you thinking?’ Bradley says.  
‘I’m thinking revenge is best served as a Morgana Ken doll gang-bang.’  
‘She’ll see that coming.’  
‘Hmm. My Little Pony bondage tableau? I bet we can find Gaffa tape and make them little gimp suits.’  
‘That’s just disturbing. And I hate craft.’

They settle, in the end, for multiple versions of little plastic Gaius and Uther going at it in her hotel room, complete with sound-effects provided by an all-too-willing Anthony and Richard. They snigger round the corner while Katie shrieks and runs down the hall in her slippers, pursued by the sound of Richard moaning _yes sire, like that sire_ , and Anthony cooing, _you’re so beautiful, Gaius. I’ve wanted you since the day our eyes met over a burning sorcerer_. 

The next day Katie corners them at breakfast. 

‘I’m scarred for life, you bastards.’  
‘And we’re not?’ Colin says. ‘I’ve got to have my picture taken later with the Arthur one. How’m I supposed to do that when I know three days ago, he was jizzing in someone’s tea? You’re twisted, Katie, twisted.’  
‘But look how cute you would be together,’ she says. She produces Merlin and Arthur from behind her back and smooshes them together, making kissing noises. They stare at her blankly, vaguely redolent of their plastic selves. ‘Seriously? _Nothing_?’ She pouts and tries again, before throwing her hands up, flinging little plastic Merlin and Arthur into the air. ‘You’re both useless.’

She stomps off. 

Little plastic Merlin and Arthur fall to the floor with two little plastic thunks. They land like they’re holding hands.

Bradley’s the first to laugh. Colin quickly follows. Bradley looks at him and shrugs.

‘Maybe she’s got a point. We probably would look good together.’  
‘And that’s a decent reason to sleep with someone is it? Because it’d be aesthetically pleasing from the outside?’  
‘No, but say two people liked each other anyway – it wouldn’t hurt to have an added bonus. And maybe it’s destiny, Colin. Little plastic destiny.’

Colin sniggers and looks away. When he looks back his eyes are dancing with something other than amusement. He bites his lip in consideration, and Bradley holds his gaze, trying to answer whatever question his eyes are asking with a yes. 

‘Pick me up at eight, then?’ Colin says.  
‘No doggy style on the first date and we’ll – work up to the throne thing?’  
‘Sure. Maybe Katie’ll let us borrow her yoga mat.’

Colin walks away with a wicked-adorable-mind-ticking-impish sort of lope, and it’s probably just a trick of the light, but when Bradley glances back at little plastic Arthur, he _swears_ he’s winking at him.


End file.
